Once Upon a Christmastime
by christylee
Summary: Tis the season to be jolly! But this year, Lizzie and Gordo are having “Santa Claus Issues.” Will everybody’s Christmas Wish come true? Read and find out! I will post one chapter on each of the twelve days between now and Christmas!
1. A Tale Told on the School Bus

_Hi, everyone! I know it's been a while since I've posted here, but I recently got some feedback on my Christmas story "The Perfect Gift" which I wrote a couple of years ago, and I felt inspired to write another Lizzie McGuire Christmas story. I hope this will put everyone in the holiday spirit._

_I have already written this entire story, and I've divided it into twelve short chapters, one for each of the Twelve Days of Christmas. My plan is to post one chapter each day between now and Christmas, with the final chapter being posted on Christmas Day._

_So please…enjoy!_

_christylee_

CHAPTER ONE: A TALE TOLD ON THE SCHOOL BUS

Once upon a time there were two families, the McGuires and the Gordons. The McGuires were a happy, sometimes frivolous family, and the parents, Sam and Jo, loved to shower their children with gifts at Christmas. They could have given all these gifts in their own name, but as their parents had done for them, and their parent's parents before them, they delighted in carrying out the tradition of Santa Claus. At seven and four years old, Lizzie and Matt McGuire were therefore firm believers in Santa Claus.

The Gordons, on the other hand, were a more serious-minded family. The parents, Howard and Roberta, had agreed on their first date that if they ever got married and decided to have children, they would raise those children to be level-headed, mature and sensible individuals. Thus, each year for Hanukah, their only son David received from them a series of eight very sensible and educational gifts: socks, underwear, sweaters, and board games designed to increase his cognitive skills. He received nothing from Santa Claus.

David was taught not to believe in Santa Claus. Despite what some people may have thought, this decision had nothing to do with Howard and Roberta Gordon being Jewish, and everything to do with them both being practicing psychiatrists. Thus David—who, for some ridiculous reason they did not know and completely abhorred, had been nicknamed "Gordo" by his little friend Lizzie McGuire—from since before he had been able to mouth the word "Santa" had known with certainty that no such person actually existed.

While Mr. and Mrs. Gordon did not want their child entertaining the foolish notion of Santa Claus, they respected the rights of other parents to let their children indulge in fantasy. Thus, young David, when he was told that there was no Santa Claus had also been instructed not to share this knowledge with any of his peers. It was a heavy burden for a seven year old child to bear, especially during the December holidays.

Lizzie and Gordo (that is: David) had known each other forever, as their mothers had been "roommates" in the hospital when they were born, one day apart. Till now, Gordo had faithfully followed his parents' instructions not to divulge the truth about Santa Claus to others, but this year, for reasons he did not completely understand, he was having a difficult time with these instructions.

Perhaps it was because his status as the second grade genius was now being challenged by a new boy in the classroom, Larry Tudgeman, who was obviously just as smart as he was. Gordo found himself in fierce competition with "Tudge," as the boy was known, and had developed a habit of never missing an opportunity to prove himself a bigger "know-it-all."

So that cool December afternoon, on the bus ride home from school, when Lizzie finally ceased chattering with Kate Sanders long enough to turn to Gordo and ask, "So, Gordo, what are you going to ask Santa to bring you this year?" Gordo could not help but roll his eyes and, almost before he knew what he was doing, spit out "Don't be preposterous, Lizzie!" Preposterous was one of the new words he and his father had recently encountered in their nightly perusal of the Dictionary, and Gordo was using it every chance he got. "Lizzie, oh, Lizzie," he went on with an air of superiority. "Don't you know there's no such thing as Santa Claus?"

Lizzie gasped. "Gordo! Why would you say such a horrible thing?"

"Cos it's true," Gordo answered.

"It is not!" Lizzie insisted, gasping again.

"It is too," Gordo persisted, already regretting what he had done.

It is NOT!" Lizzie repeated adamantly.

_Oh crap! _Gordo thought with a cringe. _What have I gotten myself into? _He wished he'd never started this. But it was too late to turn back now.


	2. Lizzie is Mad at Gordo

_Well, this is going to be fun! _

_To Jen 10: that's funny, cos though I've never actually seen Gordo's parents as strict (and that will come out a little as this story unfolds), I do think they are quite serious-minded. My main memory of Mr. Gordon is when Gordo asks his dad if they can go fishing, and his dad takes out his appointment book and pencils in "8:10 to 8:20: Contemplate the wonders of Nature" or some such thing, right before or after another ten minute session to have a "heart to heart father and son talk." They play it for comedy, of course, but I think the point is that he is a man who does everything "by the book"---literally! And I think it also explains (to some degree) why Gordo is the way he is.  
_

_Of course that doesn't mean ALL people who study psychology are serious-minded---anymore than it means that any particular group of people are "all this" or "all that." But I did try to keep my characters canon, and now I'm wondering what others might think. How do you all see Gordo's parents? The McGuire parents? Do you think I've captured their essense? Does this story (so far) strike you as something that might have happened?_

_Thoughts to contemplate. But now, as promised, my new Christmas story continues. _

CHAPTER TWO: LIZZIE IS MAD AT GORDO

Aghast, Lizzie asked Gordo, "Didn't your parents take you to see _The Santa Clause_?" She remembered that during her family's recent trip to the theatre to see the latest Christmas fare from Disney Studios, the characters in the movie who did not believe in Santa Claus were proven silly, stupid and quite wrong.

But Gordo scoffed. "My parents would never take me to see such a ridiculous movie!"

"Well, maybe they should!" Lizzie said. "Because if you had seen it, then you would know for certain that Santa Claus is real!"

"Lizzie," Gordo said indulgently. "That was just a _movie._ People can say anything they want when they make movies, and other people believe it, just because it's in a movie. Don't you know that?"

Yes, Lizzie knew that. She knew it because last year at this time her parents had taken her to see _The Nightmare Before Christmas, _and of course none of _that_ was real. But that certainly didn't prove that Santa Claus wasn't real! And that was the point now, wasn't it?

"It's called…it's called…suspension of disbelief," Gordo said, bringing out a phrase he had heard his father use on numerous occasions.

Now Lizzie was mad at Gordo. He was trying to cloud the issue by using big words, so she suddenly decided she didn't want to talk to him anymore, so for her argument-ending statement she chose, "Well…well…it doesn't matter! You're just being _stupid, _Gordo! You're being stupid and _mean_!"

"What's wrong?" Kate asked at hearing Lizzie's raised voice. Kate was always one to gravitate towards drama.

"Gordo doesn't believe in Santa Claus!" Lizzie replied, being sure to fill her voice with disapproving astonishment.

Kate sneered. "Oh, that! That's because he's Jewish," she explained simply.

"It is not!" Gordo replied, deeply offended. "Lots of Jewish kids believe in Santa Claus. Santa Clause is not just a Christian symbol of the holidays. He's a secular symbol."

Lizzie gasped again, thinking Gordo had said something other than "secular."

"You ARE mean!" Lizzie yelled at Gordo. "You're mean, and stupid and…and…and a big doody head!"

"Doody head" was a term she had learned from her little brother Matt. She had no idea where he had picked it up, but she felt sure it would finally put an end to this absurd argument.

"Okay, be that way," Gordo said calmly. "But just ask your mom and dad, and they'll tell you—No! No! Wait!" he amended quickly. "Don't tell them! Don't tell them I said anything!"

Gordo chastised himself for not thinking before he spoke. He suddenly knew with absolute clarity that if Lizzie tattled on him, her mom would call his mom, and then he would be subject to "a talking to." His parents would not punish him, of course (as they didn't believe in punishing children) but they would no doubt let him know how very disappointed they were in his behavior. He hated it when his parents where disappointed in his behavior.

"Yeah, sure!" Lizzie erroneously surmised by Gordo's sudden cover-up. "Of course you don't want me to tell anyone what you said! Cos then everyone will know what a big stupid lying doody head you are! And you'll be in trouble! Big trouble."

"Yeah, that's it," Gordo agreed. "I don't want to get a reputation as a big lying stupid doody head. I take it back, okay? I take it all back. There _is _a Santa Claus. Of course there is! Don't tell anyone I ever said differently, okay?"

Gordo sat back on the seat and mentally kicked himself for having to be such a great big know-it-all all the time. Maybe Lizzie was right. Maybe he was nothing more than a big, mean, stupid doody head.


	3. A Difficult Question

_I want to say Thanks to everyone for their reviews. Maybe in a little while, when life calms down a bit, I'll have a chance to give a personal response. Right now with work being so busy and the holiday season upon us, it's a Christmas Miracle I was even able to find time to write this story!_

_And now...on with Chapter 3 of the story when Lizzie poses...  
_

A DIFFICULT QUESTION

When the bus stopped and Lizzie and Gordo got off, they were greeted by Mrs. McGuire.

"So, Gordo," she said, after she had kissed Lizzie and marveled over the glittery paper snowflakes made during Arts & Crafts Time, "would you like to come over and help me and Lizzie in the kitchen? We're baking Christmas cookies, and I have cutouts in all different shapes: reindeer, snowmen, Santa Claus—"

"No!" Lizzie exclaimed. "He can't come over! I don't want him to!"

"Lizzie!"

"It's okay, Mrs. McGuire," Gordo said glumly. "I have a lot of homework to do."

"Gordo," Mrs. McGuire sighed. "You're in second grade. How much homework can you have? Besides, I hate to think of you spending the entire afternoon all alone in that big house…"

"I'll be okay," Gordo said, beginning to walk away. "I'm quite self-sufficient," he added, using another phrase he had often heard from his father. "Thank you anyway, Mrs. McGuire."

"Well…okay…" Jo McGuire agreed hesitantly. Then "Lizzie, say good bye to Gordo."

"No!" Lizzie shot back, still so angry with him.

"Lizzie! Don't be rude! Don't be mean!"

"I'm not the one who's being mean, Mommy. HE IS."

Mrs. McGuire could see that something had happened between them, and that Lizzie was not going to be rational until Gordo was out of her sight. So they watched little Gordo take off in the other direction, eyes to the ground, a huge sack of books weighing down his backpack.

When they were alone, Jo turned to her daughter and began, pleasantly enough, "So…how was school today, Lizzikins?"

"It was okay," Lizzie answered, without much enthusiasm.

"And how was the ride home on the bus?"

"It was…okay…" she answered tentatively, a tiny sniffle in her voice.

Jo took a deep breath. "Did something happen on the bus?" she asked gently. "Did something happen between you and Gordo?"

Lizzie was quiet a long time as she walked, sniffling now and then, rubbing her nose, her mind all ajumble. Then suddenly she spit out, "Do you know what Gordo said, Mommy? Can you believe what he said?"

"I don't know," Jo answered carefully. "What did he say?"

"He said that there's no Santa Claus!"

Jo caught her breath. "Oh!" she said shortly. "Did he? Did he _really_?" She caught her breath again and asked, "It's not because of that movie, is it?"

"No. He hasn't seen that movie. Kate said it's because he's Jewish, that's why he doesn't believe in Santa. But Santa leaves presents for Jewish kids, doesn't he?"

"I'm sure he does, Lizzie."

"Well, maybe he just doesn't leave presents for Gordo because Gordo's such a big stupid doody head!"

"Lizzie! There's no need for name-calling!" Jo said in shock, wondering where she had picked up the phrase "doody head."

"Well, I'm not the only one calling names!" Lizzie replied indignantly. "Do you know what _else _Gordo called Santa Claus, besides calling him not real? He called him…he called him…" and here she blushed a little, before she continued quietly, "he called him a _sex symbol_."

"WHAT?" Jo exploded.

""Yeah!" Lizzie continued with gusto. "He said Santa Claus was a sexual symbol!"

Now Jo laughed. "Lizzie, I'm sure that's not what he said."

"Yes, it is! He said Santa was not a Christian symbol, he was a sex symbol!"

Baffled, Jo wondered what kind of nonsense Roberta and Howard were feeding their child. She of course knew of their decision to not allow their son to believe in Santa Claus, but she couldn't imagine they were somehow getting…_Freudian _about it!!!

"But that doesn't matter," Lizzie went on, taking the conversation where Jo hoped it would not go. "None of that matters anyway. The only thing that matters is that Gordo says Santa is not real. I hate him for that!"

"Lizzie…"

"Cos Santa is real, right, Mommy?"

"Welllll…Oh look!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Here we are, home already! And what a surprise! Daddy's car is in the driveway! Do you think he'd like to help us make cookies?"

Momentarily distracted, Lizzie asked, "Do you have pink sprinkles?"

"Yes! Yes!" Jo answered enthusiastically as she led her young daughter into the house. "I have pink, and red, and green and—"

"Cos I want to make one of the reindeer cookies look like My Little Pony! Would that be okay, Mommy?"

"Sure! Sure!" Jo answered, breathing a sigh of relief that the Santa Claus issue seemed to have been tabled.


	4. DADDY TO THE RESCUE

_Here's another short chapter. I originally thought this was going to be a one-shot, and I wrote it that way, but it ended up about 8,000 words, and I know that I personally do not have the patience to sit down and read 8,000 words of FF at one time, and I wondered if other FF readers might feel the same way, so I decided to break it up into chapters. And then I realized there were 12 days till Christmas, so I decided to break it up into 12 relatively equal parts, each very short and very readable, like a dozen tasty little Christmas cookies, rather than one huge heavy fruitcake all at once. So...snack on and enjoy!  
_

CHAPTER 4: DADDY TO THE RESCUE...WELL, SORT OF

The Santa Claus question was tabled. But not for long. As mother and daughter began rolling dough and cutting cookies, Lizzie babbled happily about school and cookies and My Little Pony, until all at once…she grew silent.

Jo looked up and saw Lizzie staring at the Santa Claus cookie cutter in her hand. Lizzie looked up at her mother with a pained look of confusion and said, "Mommy, you didn't answer my question before. IS Santa Claus real?"

Jo took a deep breath and sat down beside Lizzie. Maybe they were going to have to have this talk after all.

"Well," she began carefully, "why are you asking, Lizzie? Is it just because of what Gordo said?"

Now Lizzie, of course, had been hearing rumblings on the playground for several weeks, and was vaguely aware there were others beside Gordo spreading this revolutionary poison amongst the elementary school population. She had heard, but not paid much attention, knowing that some of the older kids got their fun from spreading vicious lies and rumors. She had heard, but none of it had bothered her…until the words came out of Gordo's mouth.

So she felt she was not lying when she answered her mother, "Gordo has never lied to me before. Why would he start now?"

Jo sighed. "I don't think he meant to say that, Lizzie. I know Gordo would never purposely be mean to you."

"Then why did he say it?" Lizzie insisted. "If you're so sure he would never be mean, then why did he say it? Did he say it because it's true?"

"Well…" Jo began cautiously, "I'm not sure whether or not Gordo really believes that Santa Claus is not real. Or if he believes he _is_ real. But that's not really the point, is it? Some people believe in some things, and other people don't, and whether or not you believe in something has nothing to do with it being true. Or not."

"Huh?" Lizzie said.

"And besides all that," Jo went on, warming to her subject, "there are things in life that are true, no matter what anybody believes. And Santa Claus is like that, I think. I think he's like..he's like all the goodness and joy that there is in the world, rolled into one person, and if we believe that the world is a good place---and I believe that, don't you, Lizzie?---if we believe that, then of course we have to believe in Santa Claus. Because he always is, and always will be. And he's always a part of us."

"So the answer is Yes?" Lizzie questioned, wanting to get right through all this hoopla to the heart of the matter.

"What do you think, Lizzie?" Jo asked gently. "What is your heart telling you?"

Lizzie's heart was telling her that her mother was not giving her a straight answer. Fortunately, at that very moment, her father walked into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" Lizzie exclaimed, running to greet him.

"Sugarplum!" he answered, scooping her up in his arms. "Whazzup, My Little Pony?"

"Mommy and I are baking cookies."

"I can smell them!"

"And we're talking."

"What are you talking about?"

"Santa Claus."

"Well, what about Santa Claus?"

"Is he real?" Lizzie asked.

"You bet he is!" Sam McGuire answered without hesitation. And then before he could see his wife's look of exasperation, he added, "And he's coming here to leave you a ton of presents the day after tomorrow!"


	5. Parental Ponderings Part I

_It's been great getting all your reviews! It reminds me of the glory days of LM FF when you could count on a new FF story almost every day, and lots of readers and reviews. I don't think this fandom will ever be as hot as it once was, but it's nice to know there is still someone out there._

_I have a question for LM fans: what other show is out there now that you think is most like our show? Is there anything else out there I might want to check out? As in: "If you LIKE The Lizzie McGuire Show, you'll LOVE..." (fill in the blank). I don't know if I'd ever find another set of characters I enjoy writing about as much as Lizzie Miranda and Gordo, but I'd like to give it a try. I'd love to hear some thoughts._

_And now...on we go...with little Lizzie and her folks...  
_

CHAPTER 5 PARENTAL PONDERINGS PART I

Lizzie squealed in joy. Leave it to Daddy to make everything right again. Of course Daddy would tell her the truth straight out. He would never lie to her. Satisfied at last, she abandoned the Santa Claus issue, wiggled out of Daddy's arms and ran to the kitchen counter, exclaiming, "Wanna see my pony? I'm making a cookie that looks like My Little Pony!"

"My Little Pony!" Sam exclaimed, peeking into the oven. "That cookie sounds too pretty to eat!"

When he straightened up, Jo was beside him. "Where's Matt?" she asked him pointedly.

"In the yard," Sam answered. "He's got this crazy idea to set up an eight station feeding post where Santa's reindeer can stop to snack on carrots and celery while the Big Guy is inside chomping down on these delicious cookies you're making. He's putting on a tarp roof right now, in case it's raining. It's actually coming along pretty nicely. Want to see?"

"Yes," Jo said instantly, taking her husband by the arm. "Let's go outside and see. Lizzie, I'll be right back. Call me if the buzzer rings."

Jo dragged Sam out of the house, coming to a stop in that nebulous area on the porch where they were far enough away from both Lizzie in the kitchen and Matt in the yard to speak to each other without either child being able to hear.

"_Sam McGuire!" _Jo hissed. "_Why in the world did you say that?_"

Baffled, Sam knit his eyebrows and asked, "Say what?"

"Why did you say that about Santa Claus? About him being real!"

Further lost, Sam defended himself with, "I thought the kids believe in Santa. I thought we AGREED that we were going to let them believe for as long as they felt comfortable with it."

"Yes, we did. We have. But Lizzie is beginning to have…doubts."

"She is?" Sam asked, a tinge of sadness in his voice. He now felt one step closer to dancing with Lizzie at her wedding to the strains of "Daddy's Little Girl."

"I'm sorry," Sam went on apologetically. "I didn't know."

"She asked you if Santa Claus is real!" Jo reminded. "When a child asks you that, it means they're having doubts!"

"Well, I…I'm sorry! What should I have said? I don't know!"

Jo sighed. "I don't know, either," she answered dejectedly. "This is not an easy thing to deal with, you know."

"How did it happen, anyway?" Sam asked. "Did she see something on TV? Did someone say something to her? It wasn't that movie we took them to, was it?"

"No. It wasn't the movie. Or TV. But yes. Someone said something. _Gordo_ said something."

Now Sam sighed, understanding completely. "The Psychiatrists' Kid…" he breathed through grit teeth. Then, "Jo, I know Roberta's your friend, but I just don't get those people, the way they choose to raise their kid, sucking all the joy out of childhood."

"Well, I don't always agree with them either," Jo allowed, "but as you said, Roberta is my friend, and we have an agreement to at least _respect_ each others' parenting choices, even if we don't always agree. But this…this…"

"This is stepping over the line," Sam supplied. "I thought Gordo was under an Oath of Silence Not to Reveal."

"So did I," Jo sighed. "Something must have happened."

"Well, disaster averted…for NOW," Sam reminded, "thanks to ME. But I think you ought to have a talk with Roberta and let her know what's going on. Let her know to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"I don't know," Jo said uncertainly. "Maybe it's all for the best, you know? Maybe it's time that Lizzie began to face the realities of—"

"No," Sam said flatly putting down his foot. "You saw how happy she was when I told her Santa Claus was real. She _wants_ to believe. So we're going to let her believe. At least for a little while longer. At least until I learn how to dance…okay?"

Jo sighed. "You're right," she agreed. "I'll call Roberta tonight. We'll straighten this thing out."


	6. Parental Ponderings Part II

_When I asked my sweetie to beta this story before I began posting it, as he began reading, he came up with an interesting question: "What if there are little kids reading this who still believe in Santa Claus?" I said that I supposed it was a possibility, but if that was so, the existence or non-existence of Santa Claus was NOT the most mature and controversial issue they were bound to encounter in FanFiction. Besides, when all is said and done, an alternate title for this story might be "Yes, Lizzie, there IS a Santa Claus." _

_We'll get there. And we'll get back to the kids shortly. But first, since Christmas is all about families, just a little more "parental ponderings."_

_-_

CHAPTER 6: PARENTAL PONDERINGS PART II

Later that night, when Lizzie and Matt were tucked into bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads, and Sam was engrossed in a televised sporting event, Jo McGuire speed-dialed her old friend Roberta Gordon. After the pleasantries, Jo led right into the matter with "So. Roberta. Is everything all right with G---with David these days?"

Roberta hesitated. "Well, now that you mention it, I think he might be going through a childhood identity crisis. His ego has been rather fragile lately."

Jo rolled her eyes. Roberta was always talking like a psychiatrist. "How so?" she asked, thinking perhaps they had arrived at the root of the problem.

"Well, from what I gather, there's this new boy in school, Barry Fudgeman or something like that, and though David won't admit it, I can tell that he feels terribly threatened."

"Why?" Jo asked with concern. "Is this kid a bully?"

"No! Not at all! But apparently he's exceptionally bright. David's always felt so secure in his intellectual achievements, but I think the arrival of this new boy is shaking his confidence."

"Well then," Jo mused, almost to herself. "That might explain it."

"Might explain what?" Roberta asked.

"Why he would say something he wouldn't usually say."

"What do you mean?" Roberta asked. "What did he say? Was he mean or disrespectful to Lizzie?" Roberta loved her only son, but she was not about to tolerate any unacceptable behavior.

"Well, I guess you could say that," Jo answered. "You see, apparently, G---apparently David told Lizzie that Santa Claus is not real."

Roberta gasped. "He didn't!"

"Yes, he did."

Roberta gasped again.

"And not only that," Jo went on, "but I think he might have said something about Santa Claus being a sex symbol…"

Roberta pondered. "Now why would he say that? That doesn't even make sense."

""I know!" Jo agreed. "I think Lizzie's words were that G---that David said Santa Claus was not a Christian symbol, he was a sexual symbol."

Now Roberta laughed. "A sexual symbol! Ha ha! That's hysterical!"

Taken aback, Jo said, rather stiffly, "I'm sorry, Roberta, but I don't exactly see how---"

"No,no! My dear friend! Not _sexual_...Secular," she provided. "A _secular_ symbol!"

"Oh!" Jo said, feeling silly that she had not figured this out for herself. "You mean...because he's not Jewish?"

"I mean because he's not Jewish, he's not Christian, he's not anything. He's just…_commercial_."

"Great!" Jo said. "Like we don't have enough of _that_ during Christmas! Is that why you don't like Santa?"

"No, of course not! I love the commercial aspect of Christmas. You know me, friend: All that bling-bling, silver and gold, presents, presents and more presents…"

"Then is it…" Jo asked carefully, "_is_ it because you're Jewish? Is that why you don't want your son to believe in Santa?"

"Not at all!" Roberta said. "Yes, it's true we're Jewish, and some Jewish families are adamant on this point, but you know us, we're not really that religious, are we? So it's not because we're Jewish, it's because we're _realists. _ We don't want our child growing up with any false expectations about—"

Sensing a philosophical argument coming on, Jo averted it by suggesting, "Well then maybe it has something to do with this Fudge kid? Maybe if G---maybe if David's feeling insecure, when he lets loose this knowledge that virtually no other children his age have, he experiences a sense of superiority and power…"

"Yes!" Roberta exclaimed. "That must be it! What else could it be! Jo, you're so smart! Would you come into Practice with me?"

The two friends shared a brief laugh at the thought, then settled down with a mutual sigh.

"Well," Roberta announced. "If David is having personal issues, that's something Howard and I will have to help him get through. But as for this other problem, the imposition my son has made upon your chosen style of parenting, we will absolutely talk to him again about keeping the Santa Secret. But in the meantime, it appears there's some damage that has to be undone."

"Yes, I'd like to," Jo said, glad that Roberta was always so diplomatic and easy to deal with. "Sam has put a patch on the wound for the moment, but I'm not sure how long it's likely to last. And once she finds out, poor little Matt won't be far behind. Someday they'll fight, like they always do, and Lizzie will get mad enough to blurt it out, just to get back at him. I think she'll feel terrible the moment she does, as I'm sure G---David did, the moment he told Lizzie, but once Matt gets an idea in his head, he won't let go of it as easy as Lizzie did. He'll find some way to use this information to his advantage! The little conniver! I'd like to put that off as long as possble. So yes! It would be wonderful if we could do something to 'undo the damage,' as you say...but what shall we do?"

Roberta thought for a moment, then "Hey!" she exclaimed, seemingly out of nowhere, "Have you seen that Starbuck's has a peppermint mocha frappachino?"

"Oh yes! Sure! But what…what does that…?"

"Can you get away?" Roberta asked. "Can you leave Sam with the kids? Let's meet at Starbucks, shall we? Like we haven't done in far, far too long!"

"Oh, we haven't…" Jo lamented how busy her life had become.

"So let's do it now!" Roberta suggested. "In about a half hour? If two smart gals like us put our heads together over a couple of peppermint mocha frappachinos, I'm sure we can easily solve half the world's problems in an evening, _including _how to restore your little girl's well-intentioned belief in Santa Claus."

"Absolutely!" Jo agreed. "A half hour? I'll be there. In fact, I'll be there with bells on!"


	7. The Secular Celebration

_At last we have come to Christmas Eve,and it's hard for me to believe that in just a few days we here in the real world will also be at Christmas Eve! I hope everybody is ready for the holidays. Got all your shopping done yet? _

_BTW, this is probably the *shortest* chapter I have ever written. More tomorrow. But now...  
_

-

CHAPTER 7 THE SECULAR CELEBRATION

So it came to pass that Mom McGuire and Mom Gordon came up with a plan. On the evening of the 24th of December, with the holiday spirit near its zenith and the anticipation of a visit from Santa Claus filling all the little children with joy (except Gordo, of course), the two families gathered around the gaudily over-decorated Christmas tree in the McGuire's living room to celebrate the season.

They celebrated Hanukah with Roberta's presentation of Linda's Gourmet Latkes which had arrived (frozen) via UPS early last week, and with the spinning of Dreidels, which Howard had bought on E-Bay for the delight of the children (though they quickly tired of the tops and instead gave all their attention to Donkey Kong Country, which had arrived earlier that day from Gammy McGuire.)

They celebrated the Christian aspects of Christmas by briefly singing _God Rest Ye Merry_ _Gentlemen_ and _Joy to the World_ (though Lizzie and Gordo quickly changed the tune to _Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer_—and this despite the lovely present they had just received from Gammy McGuire!)

And then, of course, being the modern worldly-wise families that they were, they celebrated the secular joys of Christmas, with Jo's Christmas cookies, spiked eggnog for the adults, and the stringing of popcorn and cranberries for the already overdressed Christmas tree. But most of all, they celebrated with…the opening of gifts!

Howard and Roberta graced the McGuire children with new sweaters, for which they politely said thank you. Gordo's thanks were more sincere when Sam and Jo presented him with the calculator he had actually been hoping for. Gordo also had the knowledge that back at home, his parents were about to roll a new bicycle out of the backyard shed, his congratulatory gift for recently leaving the training wheels behind. Lizzie and Matt, of course, had already received so many gifts from their indulgent parents that they couldn't count them all. And later, the icing on the cake: the much heralded visit from Santa Claus! All in all, it was shaping up to be a great Christmas.

Previous to this evening, Gordo had been obliged to sit through several in-depth conversations with both parents, and was well aware of their disappointment in his inability to keep The Secret. But no matter. It was Christmas, or nearly so, and he knew enough to keep his mouth shut now as Lizzie babbled on and on about how she hoped Santa would bring her a Barbie Dream House. Matt, at one point, asked Gordo what Santa was bringing _him_. Gordo only rolled his eyes, and Matt called him a Big Doody Head.

The dads, meanwhile, over spiked eggnog, were quickly overcoming the uneasiness which always followed their initial handshake. In general, Sam thought Howard a pretentious know-it-all, and Howard considered Sam low-brow, but once the topic of who would win the National Championship came up, the two men gravitated to the small television in the kitchen, united by their common interest in football.

Their wives marveled at the power of sports to pull together the most unlikely of comrades. They also marveled at the power of rum. Jo pulled another bottle of Bacardi from the kitchen cabinet and Roberta inconspicuously emptied it into the eggnog punchbowl.

"Darling," Howard called during a commercial break. "As long as you're standing there, you wouldn't mind pouring me another cup of this delicious eggnog, would you?"

"Me too!" Sam called. "I'll have some more of the same, Darlin'. My darlin', of course!" he added in alarm. "My Jo darlin'! Would you pour me some more eggnog? Please?"

"Why…sure!" Jo answered, and she and Roberta winked at each other over the punchbowl.

So, all was well in the world. The hour wore on, the Manhattan Transfer Christmas Album played incessantly in the background, combining with the ping-ping from the video game, the roar of the college football crowd on the little TV in the kitchen, and the ladies' enthusiastic conversation about the latest sales at Macy's and Penney's. It appeared for a time that nothing might ever change, that this magical moment could last forever. But then suddenly Roberta crossed the room and poked her husband in the ribs.

"Honey," she said, with a wink, "I think we could use some more ice. Would you be a doll and run down to the store to pick up another bag of ice?"


	8. Do I Have To?

_Sleeping late on Sunday morning, always a delight! I had quite a lengthy review from Jen10. Before I post the next chapter, I would like to reply:_

_1. If you think this story is "fluffy," then...Thank You! That is EXACTLY what I was going for. As for being predictable, I think that kind of goes along with "fluffy." But still, I would hold off on using the word "predictable" until the story is over. Wait and see._

_2. It's wonderful that you have had such enjoyable Hanukkah experiences, and I'm sure most Jewish people do, the same way most Christian people have enjoyable Christmas experiences. But I stand my canon belief that the Gordons are "serious-minded" and thus I do NOT see them as going in for big holiday celebrations. I see them as far more involved in their careers than their family life. If that makes them "the bad guys," then so be it. I've exaggerated what I see as canon in order to create literary conflict. If I had everybody thinking and feeling the same way, there wouldn't be very much of a story, would there? So it's not a case of "good vs. evil" so much as the simple need of the author to create drama and conflict by which to steer the story---and when you come right down to it, it's the difference in the two families' parenting styles that is at the heart of this story. If no difference, then no conflict, and no story._

_3. But most importantly, I had hoped that by this point I had made it clear that the Gordons approach to Santa Claus has NOTHING to do with them being Jewish, and everything to do with them being PSYCHIATRISTS. In fact, I state this in Chapter 1, Gordo repeats it in Chapter 2, and in Chapter 6 Roberta says, "We're not really that religious, are we? So it's not because we're Jewish, it's because we're __realists." I wanted to be very careful that nobody misunderstood and felt offended, so I kept repeating the information._

_When you think of it, I could have written this story with Gordo having "modern" liberal parents who simply did not want their child to believe in fantasies. Their being Jewish is really BESIDE the point. But the fact of the matter (canon) is that the Gordons *are* Jewish, so it wouldn't have made sense if I didn't address this in a story of this nature. But I could see Lizzie getting excited about Hanukkah, and you have some good story ideas for that, and about little Gordo eating the cookies---tho I don't see Roberta Gordon as one who would leave her office and her clients in order to bake cookies, when she could simply buy them at the local bakery (or buy them on-line.) But if you can see that, then that would be your story, and maybe you should write it! It could be quite fun!_

_4. Finally, I'm not aware that at any point in my story any parent tells another parent how to raise their kids (check and see). In fact, I've mentioned at least a couple of times that though the two families may not AGREE about how to raise kids, they do agree to RESPECT each other's choices (at least the Moms do)._

_And now, for Green Aura...thank you for all your reviews! It's wonderful to see that you are still around, and enjoying LMFF, and I hope all is going well with you! I can almost hear you laughing hahahahahahahaha!_

_And now, on with the story..._

-

CHAPTER 8: DO I HAVE TO?

Howard pulled himself away from the game only long enough to give his wife a confused look and ask, "Ice? Why would we need ice? We're drinking eggnog!"

"The _children _need ice," Roberta said. "They're drinking soda. Do it for the _children._ Okay?"

A look of comprehension suddenly lit Howard Gordon's face as he exclaimed "Oh! The children! That's right. I see." Then, more quietly, "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Roberta said, leading him to the front door. "You have to. Don't be long. We'll be right here, waiting for you."

Sighing in defeat, Howard trudged out of the house.

"Hey!" Lizzie exclaimed, looking up briefly from the jigsaw puzzle she was working while she waited for her turn to take on the Donkey Kong champion of Gordo and Matt's current game. "Gordo, where's your dad going?"

Lizzie was a precocious child, so often acutely aware of the emotional state of those around her. She had sensed a negative vibe surrounding Gordo's father, and hoped everything was all right.

Gordo, of course, was in on the deal. He knew exactly where his father was going, but he was sworn by secrecy to say nothing. So he glibly rattled off, "I think I heard something about needing ice."

Lizzie considered. "Why would we need ice? We have an icemaker. There's plenty of ice here. Isn't there?"

Annoyed by Lizzie's innocent question, Gordo replied, "I don't know, Lizzie. Do you think I have some kind of inside path to the way grownups think? Well, guess what? I don't."

Gordo's disproportionate annoyance with Lizzie's question was brought on by a deep sense of guilt. He hated what his mother was making his father do! But he had been told it was necessary, after his own sloppy reveal of The Secret earlier in the week. Gordo did not agree with this plan, and felt terrible that he was the reason his father had to engage in this ridiculous behavior, but what could he do? Mom had spoken. He just had to grin and bear it. And play along.

"But your dad didn't look too happy," Lizzie insisted. "What do you think could be the matter?"

"How should I know!" Gordo exploded. "And what does it matter anyway? You know how it is with grownups. It's always one thing or another. There's always some stress, some crisis going on in their lives. At least that's what my parents are always saying."

"Well, I don't like it," Lizzie replied firmly. "I want everybody to be happy. Especially on Christmas."

Gordo rolled his eyes again, causing him to momentarily lose control and his cart fell off the track.

"Ah ha!" Matt cried, jumping up and down. "I win! I win! I AM the Donkey Kong King!"

"Yeah, you win," Gordo said dejectedly. _Beaten by a four year old._

"Not so fast!" Lizzie reminded her little brother as she bounced up off of the couch. "You still have to play me. Gordo! Move over!"

Several things happened in the next moment. As Gordo stood up to relinquish his seat to Lizzie, he realized that his father had now left the house and his mother was walking back into the living room. He also noticed that Mr. McGuire was heading towards the small downstairs bathroom, muttering something which Gordo did not understand about a lizard. But he did understand that this was going to be his only opportunity to NOT BE HERE when his father returned in that ridiculous suit.

"Well, as long as I'm up," he announced. "I guess I'll go visit the restroom. Doh! Sorry! Your dad got there first! Well, I'll just go upstairs!" And in a flash, he shot up the stairs.

Once on the quiet upper landing, Gordo moseyed into the bathroom, but try as he might, he could not legitimize the visit. So he zipped up his pants and went to the far end of the hall, hiding in Lizzie's bedroom, in an attempt to avoid hearing the squeals of delight that were sure to follow his father's return through the front door.


	9. Something Weird is Going On

_Baby, it's cold outside!!! This morning as I wake up, the temperature is 21, feels like 11. This may be the coldest day yet that I have experienced since moving to Alabama, almost two years ago. How are you all doing temperature-wise? Anybody colder than this? I'm sure some of you are! Anybody looking at a White Christmas? We're warming up to the 70's and rain for Christmas Eve. Sigh...Crazy weather!  
_

_Well, I'm going to look for LAYERS to wear as I head out to work this morning. But before I do, I leave you with my next chapter...  
_

_-_

CHAPTER 9: SOMETHING WEIRD IS DEFINITELY GOING ON

There were no squeals of delight in the living room downstairs. For only a few moments later, Howard Gordon returned through the front door, still wearing his corduroy jacket, and his wife ran up to him, hissing, "Howard! What is wrong with you? Where's the suit?"

"It isn't there!" Howard hissed back.

"Well, why not? Didn't you put it in the trunk before we left?"

"I did!" he insisted, then, "At least I thought I did. But I'm telling you, it's not there now!"

"Are you telling me...You forgot?" Roberta accused. "You forgot? On purpose?"

"I didn't! At least, not on purpose. I mean, there was so much to remember: the cake, the presents, the wine…"

"I remembered the cake and the presents and the wine!" Roberta shot back. "All you had to remember was the suit. And you forgot it! Oh! Oh! How typical!"

"Typical?" Howard questioned defensively. "How so?"

"You never face your issues, do you, Howard? If you don't want to deal with something, you just conveniently shove it under a rug! How…how _Freudian_!"

"Now wait just one darn-tootin' second," Howard objected. "Technically, it's not 'Freudian…'" and he launched into a psychiatric evaluation of his own behavior.

Lizzie was only vaguely aware of the argument in the foyer as she worked her video game controller from the living room couch, but it made her uneasy. Apparently it made her mother uneasy as well, for Jo came from the kitchen to stand with Howard and Roberta in the foyer and after a few more frenzied whispers, she was offering the Gordons her assurance that it was "no big deal" and that the issue had probably been completely forgotten anyway. Lizzie could not tell what they were talking about, but she knew something was wrong.

Upstairs, Gordo was aware of nothing but his own troubled thoughts. He sat on the edge of Lizzie's bed, staring at the long line of Barbies and Kens atop the dresser. The sight depressed him. He liked Lizzie, he really did, but sometimes he fervently wished she was a boy. If he was doomed to have only one good friend, why couldn't it be a guy, like he was? Why did he have to get stuck playing Barbies all the time? He felt sure he was bound to end up with a manifestation of gender issues. At least that's what he had heard his parents secretly murmuring on more than one occasion.

Gordo wished for a friend of the same gender. At least a part of him wished that, if only to please his parents. Deep down, though, he knew that, in general, he found boys much too competitive and confrontational. What he really imagined would suit him best would be another friend who was a girl, but not quite as frilly and emotional as Lizzie. A girl who was, maybe, a little rough around the edges. A girl with some spunk, who liked her Mary Kate and Ashley handbag in a leopard print, rather than bubblegum pink. Yeah. Even a girl like that would be nice as a friend.

These were Gordo's thoughts, which were almost a hope, almost a wish, as he let his eyes drift from the line of Barbies to the view of the night sky from Lizzie's open bedroom window. He saw the full moon, and he saw a star. If Lizzie were here, she would sing "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…" and make a wish. Gordo sighed. He was too practical to wish upon a star. Yet even as he sighed, somewhere deep inside him, he dared to wish.

He wished, and sitting in Lizzie's bedroom at the far end of the house, he did not hear what was going on in the rooms below him. But Lizzie did. She heard the grownups continue to whisper at the front door, and she sensed that something was wrong. Her dad soon joined the group, and in a voice that was not a whisper, said, "Hey! What's going on here?"

The others "shh"ed him, and cast glances at Lizzie and Matt in the living room. _Okay, _Lizzie thought._ Something weird is definitely going on here. _She was starting to feel paranoid.

But that feeling did not last long, for as soon as her father spoke and the others "shh"ed him, there was a bold knock on the door, and her mother threw up her hands, wondering, "Now who could THAT be?" as she reached for the doorknob.

In the very next instant, Lizzie heard her mom exclaim "Oh my God! I _don't_ believe it! I just don't believe it!"

"Don't believe what?" Roberta and Howard and Sam asked in unison.

"I don't believe who's at the door! Would you like to guess? Could any of you ever in a million years guess who is at the door?" And here, dramatically, she threw open the door and announced in a loud, astonished voice, "It's Santa Claus!"


	10. A Visit From Santa

_To Mojoman: that's funny that you made a comment about the bottle of Bacardi. When my sweetie was reading through the story, he stopped and chuckled at that as well. I hope you all realize I was playing it for comic effect. And as for Matt and his crazy scheme about the reindeer feeding station. ..also for comic effect. After all, how many crazy schemes has Matt had? Matt so naturally lends himself to comedy and exaggeration, don't you think?_

_And now, on we go with...  
_

-

CHAPTER 10: A VISIT FROM SANTA CLAUS

"Santa Claus!" Sam and Roberta and Howard repeated in unison.

"Santa Claus!" Lizzie and Matt cried out together, dropping their video game controllers and jumping up from the couch.

"Yes! It's me! Santa Claus!" confirmed Santa Claus in the doorway, stroking his long white beard and chuckling warmly as he rubbed his rotund tummy.

"Oh my God! Santa Claus!" Jo said. "What are you doing here?"

Lizzie and Matt had run into the foyer, enthralled by the sudden appearance of Santa Claus, and they almost leaped into his arms, but he was so large, and his suit so red, his boots so black, and his "Ho Ho Ho!" so hearty, that as much as they loved him, he awed them into a sudden case of shyness.

"What am I doing here? What am I doing here?" Santa repeated in a deep reverberating tone. "Well, it's Christmas, isn't it? So I'm here to say Merry Christmas! And Happy Hanukkah! And _Feliz Navidad_ to all!"

The grownups exchanged a speechless look among themselves, but the children did not notice. Their eyes were sparkling brightly at the huge stranger in their doorway who was …strange, and yet not a stranger at all.

"Santa…" Lizzie whispered in wonder.

"Hello there, little girl!" Santa greeted, looking down at Lizzie and reaching out to shake her tiny hand with his large furry glove. "Ho Ho Ho! I've been out and about, visiting all the little children in the neighborhood before I set off in my sleigh tonight, and I met a _chica _next door who told me she had seen that a pretty little blonde girl lives in this house! A little girl who looks like someone who might like to play Barbies with her!"

"Oh!" Jo said unexpectedly. She glanced at her husband and knowingly poked him in the ribs. "The new neighbors," she whispered. "They have a little girl Lizzie's age."

"They do?" Sam said, who was not as socially observant as his wife.

"Yes, we do!" Santa confirmed. "I mean: Yes! They do!"

Lizzie had seen the girl. She had dark hair and big brown eyes and had smiled and waved at Lizzie as she carried a big box into the house. Lizzie had asked her mother if she could go play with the new girl and her mother said yes, of course—but after she did her homework, and made her bed, and ate her dinner…and after they baked the Christmas cookies, and did the Christmas shopping, and decorated the tree—

"What's her name?" Lizzie asked Santa suddenly.

"Her name is Miranda," Santa answered, and he rolled his "r's" as he said it.

Lizzie giggled. "That's a funny name. Mirrrrrranda!" she tried.

"Ho Ho Ho!" Santa answered. "Very good!"

About this time Matt decided the big guy was okay, and suddenly took a few short hops and jumped up into his arms. "What are you going to bring me for Christmas?" he asked excitedly tugging on Santa's beard.

"Matt!" Jo scolded. "Don't be rude!"

"I'm not being rude," little Matt insisted. "I just want to know."

"Ho Ho!" Santa exclaimed, bracing his back. "What a fine little fellow! And much…_sturdier_ than he looks!"

"Would you like to sit down, Santa?" Jo offered, suddenly remembering her own manners. "Can I offer you some eggnog? Cookies?"

"Let's sit down," Santa suggested, carrying Matt into the living room. "I'll be Santa first, before we begin to talk of eggnog and cookies."

So Santa sat on the couch, and Matt and Lizzie crowded around him, asking questions and repeating their Christmas lists.

"I want a BB gun!" Matt began in earnest.

Santa glanced up at Sam and Jo, who were both gently shaking their heads.

"Oh!" Santa exclaimed. "A BB gun? Really? Say! Aren't you a little young to be playing with guns?"

""I'm four!" Matt stated proudly.

"But…but…you'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

"AWWW!" Matt complained.

"How about a nice…toy truck? Or a…or a…"

"Or a Ninja Turtle Party Wagon," Sam suggested.

"Yes!" Santa agreed. "A Ninja Turtle Party Wagon sounds wonderful. I'll bring you that!" and quickly moving on, "And you, little girl?"

"I really _really_ want a Barbie Dream House. I wrote you a letter all about it. Do you remember? Signed: Lizzie McGuire."

Santa looked at Sam and Jo, who were this time gently nodding their heads.

"Of course I remember your letter!_"_ Santa exclaimed with gusto. "And of course I'll bring you a Barbie Dream House! And can you guess what? That's the very same thing the _chica_ next door has asked for!"

"Mirrrrrranda," Lizzie repeated with a giggle.

"Yes! And do you know what else Mirrrranda told me she would like for Christmas?" Santa said, looking directly at Lizzie. "A friend. A friend to play with."

"I'll be her friend!" Lizzie volunteered. "It would be nice to have a friend who was...who was…" She was about to say "who was a girl," but as she glanced up at Gordo's parents, she did not want them to feel offended, so she changed it to, "a girl who was living so close to me! Do you think she would like to come over and play?"

"I'm sure she would love to come over to play!"

"Oh, can she? Mommy, Daddy! Can she? Now?"


	11. Gordo Doesn't Know Everything

_So now you see where this story is going. It's an "origins" story. To the best of my recollection, the show does not give us a clear answer about how Lizzie Gordo and Miranda meet, so I figured I could take on that event and not violate the show's canon (and I am very big on canon!). If anyone can think of anything from the show that mentions how they all meet, please let me know. The best I can come up with is that they were all together in 4th grade (when Lizzie told everyone that Miranda ate dog biscuits) and I also remember an image of them playing together in a little plastic backyard pool, probably when they were younger than fourth grade, but not sure how much younger. I also remember something about Gordo vomiting on the kindergarten "storytime rug" but I'm not sure if Miranda was there. Well, anyway. This is my story now as it stands.  
_

_But before we get to Miranda, first we come to Chapter 11, where we find out that..._

GORDO DOESN'T KNOW EVERYTHING

"Yes, Santa," Jo took up. "Do you think Miranda would like to come over and play? Right now, I mean. And if her parents are new in the neighborhood, and aren't doing anything tonight, they would also be welcome to come over and join us. For some eggnog and cookies. I do apologize, I should have thought of it sooner, I've been meaning to stop over and say hello, but you know how it is during the Christmas season, too many things on your mind, always so, so busy…"

"Ho! Ho!" Santa replied. "Yes, I know how it is. Mrs. Santa was saying the very same thing to me only the other thing. But I'll—I'll _stop back over _at your new neighbor's house and extend the invitation before I, uh, set out on my sleigh—"

"Do you have your sleigh here?" Matt asked excitedly. "Are your reindeer here? I set up a feeding station for them in the backyard! Want to see?" he asked, dragging Santa to his feet.

So Santa was compelled to take a short trip into the backyard, and Sam and Howard went with him and Matt, leaving only the ladies in the living room for a moment. And in that moment, Gordo finally decided to come back downstairs, and was relieved to discover that the Santa Claus charade was apparently over.

Or so he thought, until Lizzie ran to him, bouncing up and down before him, exclaiming, "Gordo! Gordo! Where have you been! Good, you're here! You haven't missed him!"

Gordo's heart sunk. "Missed who?" he asked, knowing full well what Lizzie was so excited about.

"Santa! You haven't missed him! He's still here! Matt took him into the backyard, but he'll be back in a minute, and then you can see him, and meet him, and tell him what you want for—"

"No thanks," Gordo said quietly. "I'll pass."

"Gordo! What's wrong with you? Why don't you—?" Lizzie stopped short, then remembered, "Oh, that's right. You don't _believe_ in Santa Claus, do you? You think you're so smart, don't you? Well, that just shows how much you know, you big stupid Doody Head! Cos Santa Claus _is_ real, and he's _right_ here, he's at my house _right now_ and—"

"Lizzie, YOU'RE the big stupid Doody Head!" Gordo exploded, unable to contain himself any longer. "It's NOT Santa Claus! It's my DAD. It's my dad, dressed up in a Santa Claus suit! Your mom and my mom made him do it because of what I said to you the other day, and I'm sorry, but you're NOT right, I'M right, and there is no Santa Claus and—"

"Your dad?" Lizzie asked quizzically. "Gordo, why would you say such a thing?"

"Cos it's true!"

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!" Gordo insisted.

"No. It's NOT," Lizzie repeated, just as Santa walked back into the house. "Gordo, your dad is right here."

"Yeah!" Gordo agreed, pointing at Santa Claus at the far end of the room. "That's him! That's my dad! He's right there!"

"No," Lizzie said, turning to look as the group continued coming through the doorway. "There's Santa, and there's Matt…and there's my dad…and there's _your_ dad. Right there!"

As Gordo observed the procession of people coming into the house, all at once, for probably the first time in his young life, he was left speechless. Yes. There was Santa Claus. And there was his dad.

His dad was not Santa Claus. He couldn't explain it.

As Gordo stood in the hallway with his mouth hanging open, Santa approached him and bellowed, "Ho! Ho! Ho! And who is this little boy?"

Gordo stared up into the bearded bespectacled face and stuttered, "I…I…" This Santa was not his dad. This Santa was not even wearing the same suit that Gordo had seen his father put on the kitchen table earlier this evening. The red was richer, the black belt wider.

Gordo felt his mother come to his side and put his arm around him, "Santa," she announced with a smile, " this is my son, David."

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Nice to meet you, David!"

"But…" Roberta added after overcoming a moment of hesitation, "I think you should know…his friends call him Gordo."

Here Santa laughed louder and longer than he had since he'd entered the house. His robust mirth nearly frightened Gordo to death. Was he about to receive some kind of punishment for not believing? But Santa only repeated "Gordo! Gordo!" as he rubbed his huge belly and then patted Gordo's skinny belly. "How in the world did you ever come up with a nickname like that, young man?"

But Gordo could only stutter, "I…I…"

"It's a long story, I'm sure," Roberta said. "One that Lizzie and David can tell to little Miranda when they meet her."

"Yes! Yes!" Santa agreed. "Miranda! I'm sure she'll be delighted to know she will be having two new friends now, not just one! Well, well, I suppose I should be going then..."

A few moments later Santa was gone, and everyone was talking all at once.

Howard came over to his wife and said "Roberta. The boy is going to be psychologically scarred by this confusing experience." Roberta rolled her eyes and replied, "Oh shut up, Howard and have some more eggnog."

Jo was in a frenzy, exclaiming, "The new neighbors are coming over! The neighbor's wife is coming over! We have to clean this place up!"

Sam was back at the TV in the kitchen, yelling, "Touchdown 49'ers! Hey, Howard! Come and see this!"

Lizzie and Matt were bouncing around excitedly, still reeling from their visit with Santa Claus as they helped their mother pick up the discarded wrapping paper from all over the living room floor.

Gordo, however, continued to stand open-mouthed in the hallway, trying to figure out what had just happened.


	12. New Friends

_And now, the last chapter, and with it, here's wishing all of you the Happiest New Year! Thanks for reading! _

_christy_

-

CHAPTER 12: NEW FRIENDS

A short time later, after the discarded wrapping paper had been picked up from the floor, the Christmas CD had been changed to Harry Connick Jr., and a fresh batch of eggnog was poured into the punchbowl, there was another knock at the door. Sam answered it this time, and soon ushered the Sanchez family into the McGuire living room.

"Hey, everybody!" he announced with a flourish. "This is Edward and Danielle…and their little girl Miranda. They just moved in next door."

"Merry Christmas!" Edward exclaimed, walking forward with an outstretched hand. "Happy Hanukkah! And Feliz Navidad!"

The adults jumped up and introductions were made all around. The children, however, held back awkwardly for a few moments. Holding her mother's hand, Miranda politely said hello to all the grown ups, then looked shyly at Lizzie and Gordo. When she heard Gordo's nickname, she giggled.

"Why is everybody always laughing at my name?" Gordo wondered.

"You're not…_fat_!" Miranda said. "You're skinny!"

Gordo knew he was skinny, but nobody had ever said that to him, except some of the bullies on the playground. But Miranda did not look like a bully.

"In Spanish," Danielle explained, "_Gordo_ means 'fat.'"

Everybody had a good laugh at Gordo's expense, but he didn't mind, because before the laughing was over, Lizzie had approached Miranda and broke the ice with their new friend by saying, "I'm getting a Barbie Dream House from Santa Claus."

"I am too!" Miranda replied.

"I've got fifteen Barbies and five Kens," Lizzie said.

"Do you have wedding Barbie?" Miranda asked as she let go of her mother's hand.

"Yes, I do!"

Gordo rolled his eyes.

"Do you have Rock Climbing Barbie?"

"Yes! I have her too!"

"Oh!" Miranda exclaimed. "I really hope Santa brings me Rock Climbing Barbie! Do her boots have real laces? Can I see?"

"Yeah! Let's go up to my room! Gordo, come on!"

Gordo rolled his eyes again. More Barbies. _Oh well…_

Lizzie led the way up the stairs. Miranda followed, but before she turned the corner, she looked at Gordo and smiled, then giggled again, then poked him in the ribs, singing, "_Gordo! Gordo!_ Hee hee hee!"

"Hey!" Gordo returned, but somehow he didn't really mind.

Suddenly Miranda stopped and listened, her brown eyes wide as she asked, "Do I hear Donkey Kong?"

"Yeah," Gordo asked. "Lizzie and Matt got it for Christmas. You play?"

"I _love_ Donkey Kong!" Miranda exclaimed. "Let's play later, after Barbies, okay?"

"Sure!" Gordo replied, now really warming up to this girl.

She looked at him and giggled, but this time shyly. "I like your hair…Gordo. It's so curly and crazy."

Gordo looked down, embarrassed, and noticing Miranda's feet, he said, "I like your boots. They're zebra."

"I love zebras!" Miranda said. "Hold on, Lizzie! I don't know where your room is!"

"I do!" Gordo said. "Follow me!"

Gordo shot up the stairs, and Miranda shot up after him. As they passed the window in the upstairs hallway, Gordo looked out and noticed the star which, earlier, he had not wished upon. Yet, it seemed now, that perhaps his wish had come true after all. And Lizzie's too.

And just before Gordo turned away from the window, he almost thought he saw, from the corner of his eye, passing in front of the moon, a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

He looked again, and it wasn't there. Had it been? He didn't know. And it didn't matter. Santa Claus or no Santa Claus, it was shaping up to be a wonderful Christmas.

And quite a Happy New Year.


End file.
